Erik had heard Mike's soft exclamation, but he couldn't acknowledge it. He knew he couldn't. To comfort, to soothe, to understand that the other boy was feeling the same way he was - the was acknowledging weakness, pain, desperation. And he couldn't do that yet. He couldn't handle what he was feeling right now, and he knew it. He had to put it away. Another faint smile twitched at his lips - what was it Scarlett O'Hara had said? I can't deal with that today, I'll deal with it tomorrow? Something like that. It repeated in his head like a mantra.

"Careful," he said, voice absent as he focused on the distant figure, already beginning to walk forwards. 'Yeah. Definitely. We've really gotta...we need to look sharp." He wasn't even entirely sure what he was saying, mind running through endless possibilities, trying to match the body, the face to a name. Trying to figure out what the personality would lead to, whether or not it would be safe.

It wasn't until the boy said hello that it clicked. Jasper-Declan MacDermott. Quiet was pretty much all he remembered - quiet, kind of eccentric. Not the type to - but then, nobody would be the type to. No one could ever do that. There was a gun in front of him, though, and Erik felt his heart rate speed up.

"Hey." His voice wasn't entirely steady, but was doing a good job of pretending. "Hey, man. You - uh, you doing okay?" What else was there to ask? How did one start conversations on an island where the goal was killing people? This was all just so fucking surreal, he had no idea.

matt mckinnon

inside leg to outside hand

lydia hausen

move past move on move up

lexie diaz

light it up burn it down

(so you've got to keep in mind, when you try to change the world for the better not everybody's gonna be on your side)